The Evenings Are The Worst
by FanFicLove101
Summary: HG/MM angsty angsty angsty! Rated M throughout, first angst so let me know? R and R
1. Chapter 1

_However much I wish I did, I do not infact own any thing related to Harry Potter_ - _You'll have to thank JK for that_

* * *

_**Chapter One.**_

"Huh...Oh...Oooh...yes-yes-yes-yes uh...Oooh-ho-ho...Oh my god...Oh my, oh yes like that, oh God please, like that...Just, oh just...more, more, more, I want...Uhhh, oh...Mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmmmm...Yes! Yes! Oh god! I'm going to co- I'm going to- I'm co- I'm co-ing!"

Slumping back against the bed, her hair strewn all over her face and pillows, Hermione slowly pulled her hand away from her wet and spent heat. With a wave, she cleared herself of the liquid she'd produced in the height of passion, closing her legs tightly in satisfaction. Her eyes still closed, in the darkest part of the night, the double bed empty and cold, she had pleased herself with the thoughts of Minerva.

"Ooooh, Minerva..." She moaned, as her sheath began tingling once more, her hand gently playing with the curls of hair that protected the folds of warm flesh. Delving in with her fingers once more, she came almost instantly, her nub much too sensitive from the previous act of pleasure. She ground her hips against the fingers, enjoying the feeling of being filled. Spent once more, she released herself and cleaned once again, opening her eyes and adjusting to the dim light of the moon that beat gently through the curtains.

Sat on the chair by her desk was Minerva, her arms folded neatly in her lap, smiling. Her eyebrows raised in an amused fashion, her eyes wide with satisfaction. Hermione immediately turned red, wanting to hide under the covers from the piercing eyes of her lover.

"How long have you been there?" Hermione asked shakily.

"Ooh, quite a while." Minerva answered, entertained.

"Well, you could've said!" Hermione replied indignantly, pulling the covers over her and sitting upright, "Why did you let me carry on by myself?"

"Because," Minerva began, standing from the chair and moving slowly to the bottom of the four-poster bed, "I finished my evening patrol early. I teetered in, knowing you had an important assignment to start tomorrow at The Ministry, not wishing to wake you from what I thought was a, rather _pleasant_ dream. I open the door to find you with your legs-a-kimbo, your eyes tightly shut moaning my name..." Minerva stood, leaning against the bed.

"Well, you could've got in on it..." Hermione almost snapped, knowing her lover would've made much better work of it than her.

"I could have." The eldest witch answered earnestly, "Bit it was much more gratifying to watch you, my dear. I truly had to resist..." Her eyes sparkled with arousal and temptation.

"Why don't you come to bed then?" Hermione whispered softly, smiling.

Minerva straightened, her hand coming to her eyes and rubbing them.

"I am afraid, my dearest, you must sleep, and so must I."

Hermione sighed loudly, pulling the sheets up tightly to her neck and settling down. She could hear Minerva changing, the all too familiar sounds of the wardrobe opening and closing, the padding of her feet across the cold stone slabs and then the carpet that their bed was settled upon, her glasses being set on her bedside table; and then nothing. Hermione listened intently, sure Minerva must be fiddling about with something or other. _Probably a pin in her hair, _Hermione thought. After another 10 seconds of silence, and no Minerva shaped being settling on the side of the bed, Hermione rolled over to see the eldest witch staring at her back. She wore a white cotton night dress, which laced at the neck and cuffs.

"Please don't be upset with me, dearest, I am very tired, as are you and..."

"Why don't you have time for me anymore?" Hermione blurted out, not really realising she'd said it herself. Minerva's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open, then closing, then opening again.

"What do you mean?" She said quietly.

Hermione felt a slight bubble of anger boil in her stomach.

"Minerva, it's been three weeks since you last made love to me. There was a time when you couldn't get enough of me! I know you are tired with work, but so am I! You don't make time for me anymore..." Hermione rolled over, huffing once again.

Minerva waited for a few seconds, then Hermione felt the familiar body sag onto the bed and pull the covers over. For a while they sat in silence, neither one of them intending to sleep.

"I have a lot of responsibility, Hermione." Minerva began, "I get very tired, and the days you finish early at The Ministry, I have to work late, that's just how life is sometimes."

Hermione felt Minerva's head roll to look at her.

"Please, love..."

"Please, what, Minerva?" Hermione bit.

"I am trying to apologise and you're not making it any easier for me." Minerva barked back, now getting angry too.

"Well, maybe apologising isn't enough..."

"What more can I do Hermione! What is it you want from me!"

"I want you to make love to me; I want to feel loved again Minerva!"

The words tumbled from Hermione's lips, turning to face her lover. She saw disappointment flash across the face that had now hardened in an attempt to banish the emotions within.

"So... This is all the relationship is to you then: Sex?"

"No, that's not what I meant..."

"Well, that's certainly what it sounds like..."

"Well, how would you know? You're never here anymore!" Hermione shouted.

"Oh, Hermione, honestly..."

"Don't scoff at me!"

Minerva sighed, long and hard, the silence between them leaving both women hurt and disgruntled.

"I am sorry you feel this way, Hermione." Minerva said, in a low authoritative tone, "I will try harder."

Minerva rolled to her side facing away from Hermione, who now had tears streaming silently down her face. What she didn't know, was that the elder witch lying next to her was crying tears of pain too.

* * *

_A/U: As always, reviews are requested and appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own anything HP!_

_

* * *

_

_**Chapter Two.**_

It had been another long, uneventful day. Hermione had been miserable the whole time with the argument she had had with Minerva the previous evening rotting in her head. Minerva had left for breakfast before her; although had snuggled Hermione further into the duvet and kissed her sweetly on the lips when she thought Hermione was asleep.

She now sat with wine glass in hand, watching the clock tick by, each second agonisingly painful. She was alone, again, like most evenings recently. Hermione looked upon the door of their quarters, knowing full well it would not open with the familiar sigh of her lover for at least another 3 hours.

"Mixy?" Hermione spoke quietly.

A tiny house elf, much smaller than usual, popped in front of Hermione, bowing low.

"Do you think you could go and fetch Miss McGonagall for me, and request she come back to her quarters please?"

"Certainly, Misses Hermione." Mixy replied.

With another loud pop she was gone. Within 10 minutes, Minerva burst through the doorway, searching frantically for Hermione, whom was still sat upon the sofa.

"What's wrong dearest? Mixy said you'd asked for me, has something happened? Are you hurt?"

Minerva had obviously ran, her chest heaving and breath short. Hermione brought her down to the sofa, holding her lovers hand and staring into her eyes.

"If you could spare time to see if I was ok, you could spare another 10 minutes, could you not?" Hermione whispered, smiling.

Without further ado, she placed her wine glass upon the side table next to the sofa, and turned to face her lover once more. Cupping Minerva's face with one hand, she moved slowly toward her neck, and upon reaching it, pressed her lips firmly and lovingly. She made her way up to Minerva's ear lobe, nudging it with her nose and sighing deeply into the thick, greying hair. Hermione advanced to nip gently at the sensitive skin, feeling Minerva's body react.

"Hermione..." Minerva said huskily.

Hermione carried on, hardly hearing her lover's words.

"Hermione, please... I have work to do and I can't-"

"Oh, come one Minerva. Just ten minutes?" Hermione mumbled seductively into the already swollen ear.

Minerva's arms placed gently on the younger witches, pushing her gently backward.

"No, Hermione." Minerva said, warmth in her eyes and a small smile on her face.

Hermione simply looked at Minerva, fear creeping into her of inadequacy. Feeling tears start to prickle her eyes, she took hold of her wine glass again and downed the rest.

"Fine. Forget it." Hermione mumbled looking into her lap.

Minerva's hand held onto Hermione's tightly.

"It's not that I don't want to love, I'd love more than to-"

"I said, it's fine, forget about it." Hermione retorted through gritted teeth, stopping Minerva short.

The elder witch contracted from Hermione's hand, pulling away stiffly, evidently hurt by her lovers words. She stood, smoothing down her robes.

"Yes, well..." she mumbled, before leaving the room and closing the door.

* * *

The evening had finally passed, and Hermione sunk into bed, alone once more, allowing the duvet and mattress to swallow her whole.

She leant back into the pillow and closed her eyes, when the door of the bedroom clicked open, Minerva sweeping through as she unclipped her hair. Walking straight to the wardrobe and undressing, Minerva remained silent, as if Hermione were invisible. She refused to make eye contact, even though Hermione's eyes fervently bore into the back of her head, willing for some sign of reassurance. Minerva padded in and out of the bathroom a few times, carrying towels, b rushing her hair, cleaning her teeth, until she finally flicked her wand for the light to turn off and strode toward the bed, eyes directly and purposefully on her side of the mattress. She sunk into bed, faced away from Hermione, and wriggled down to be comfortable.

Hermione's heart pounded, feeling helpless and rejected. Through he year with Minerva, never had she felt this way, nor had Minerva ever behaved in this fashion. It was alien, foreign, and Hermione wished for her lover back again.

"Where are you?" Hermione whispered, hardly audibly even to herself.

A tear slipped slowly from her eye.

"I am here." Minerva rumbled quietly in her thick brogue.

Not expecting an answer, Hermione's tears flowed like a flood gate had opened, her hands clasping her face as she heaved her shoulders with silent sobs. Long, slender arms wrapped gently but securely around her, lips pressing lightly to her head as Minerva rocked her gently.

"Sssh, my little one." She cooed, her voice soft and low.

Hermione clung to Minerva's night dress, fisting the soft cotton material. Her lovers arms were the safest place in the world, Minerva's voice the most calming sound in the universe. Minerva lay back, letting Hermione fall upon her and settle into her side. Her lips still on Hermione's crown, kissing gently every so often, Minerva quietly hummed Celtic tunes from her childhood. She rubbed Hermione's foot with her own, her sobs subsiding now to breathing heavily. Minerva began to rub the youngest witches back, and as Hermione moaned, her eyes closed, and she could not resist sleep any longer.

* * *

_A/U: Intrigued?_


	3. Chapter 3

_I own none of HP!_

* * *

_**Chapter Three.**_

Both witches fell through the door, laughing and holding their chests due to shortness of breath. Whilst Minerva settled into the nearest chair, resting her feet on a stool, Hermione bumbled about at the drinks cabinet.

"Would you like anything?"

"Tea, I think would be wise," Replied Minerva, holding a hand to her head, "I already have a headache settling in..."

Hermione called for Mixy, asking to bring a tray of tea and some biscuits, with which she returned promptly. Soon the witches were laughing hard again, a cup of tea in their hands, reminiscing about the night.

"I think that has to be one of _the_ funniest Order party's I've ever been to! I think Kingsley had far too much to drink; the way he sang and danced to 'You Sexy Thing', well, I just thought I'd never breathe again!" Hermione stammered between bursts of laughter.

"I quite agree," Minerva giggled, "Mind you, I must say, I think I've been on my feet too long, they're killing me."

"Come here, love." Hermione whispered, sliding off of the settee and kneeling at Minerva's feet.

Kicking off the laced black boots, Hermione began rubbing the ball of Minerva's feet, tenderly but firmly with her thumbs in an aid to release the burning sensation. Minerva's head lolled back into the chair, her hands curling over the ends of the arm rests. A quiet moan sounded from her throat, as she brought her right hand up to her tight bun, releasing the cascading locks. Hermione's thumbs worked down to the arch of Minerva's foot; her toes now splayed in appreciation to the massage, her eyes closed too.

"Remind me why I don't let you do this more often?" Minerva murmured, index and thumb rubbing her tired eye sockets.

"Because you don't have time..." Hermione whispered in a mocking tone.

Minerva groaned, pulling her feet away and placing them firmly on the ground, looking at Hermione.

"Dearest, must you?" Agitated, Minerva stood, limping slightly as she paced. "We have had a delightful evening, must you be so callous?"

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean..." Hermione began.

"Enough." Minerva muttered, "I'm going to bed."

"Minerva, please?"

"I said, enough, Hermione."

Minerva looked over her shoulder at her lover and with a shake of her head she walked to the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. Hermione, still sat at the foot stall, felt stunned and empty: Minerva had finally let her show some affection and she'd ruined it with her thoughtless words. Hermione could hear Minerva beginning to get ready for bed; the sounds of the wardrobe closing, the window being opened, the sigh of finally giving in to rest...

Hermione slowly stood, walking toward the closed door of the bedroom. She leant against it, her forehead feeling the cold wooden surface. She rolled back and forth on it, her eyes closed and not knowing what to do. A sigh came from within,

"Don't linger at the door, Hermione; if you're going to come in, then come in."

Feeling like the petulant school girl she always was, Hermione quietly opened the door into the bedroom, looking toward the bed and seeing Minerva sat up against the head board. She leant against the doorway, looking at her lover, whom stared straight back with pursed lips and cutting eyes.

"Are you coming to bed, or is the door frame more comfortable for your liking?"

"Please, Min, do not be harsh with me..." Hermione pleaded, walking toward Minerva and her side of the bed.

"I feel harsh, Hermione." Minerva snapped, "You have been nothing but rude and careless with me the past few weeks and I've not cared for it much."

Sitting on Minerva's side of the bed, Hermione looked down into her lap.

"I just miss you..." She whispered.

"I know. But that is not an excuse for the behaviour you have been displaying of late."

Minerva's arms folded tightly across her chest as her lips pursed ever more. Hermione could feel her lovers eyes burning holes into the side of her head, but being unable to look her in the eyes, she merely muttered,

"I love you."

"I love you. But I don't like the Hermione who has been the past few weeks... Now, come to bed."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry guys, its been a long couple of weeks..._


	4. Chapter 4

_I own nothing to do with Harry Potter!_

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

Grateful to be back home, Hermione pushed open the door of Minerva's quarters with a sigh. Her eyes down closing the door behind her, she didn't notice the room darkly lit in a romantic glow, nor the table for two with a large glass of red wine for her.

"I've been waiting for you."

Minerva's voice sounded from the fireplace, Hermione gasping as she looked up to find her lover at the sight before her.

"What's all this?" The young witch asked confused, her brows furrowing and flopping her work on the settee.

"It's for you." Minerva replied, smiling.

"Did you do all of this?" Hermione stared at Minerva.

Nodding, the elder witch swept over to her lover, removing her outer cloak and kissing her gently on the neck. Hermione was still in disbelief; having been set on spending another evening alone with a glass of wine, she'd come home to a romantic surprise dinner by the love of her life.

"Now then," Minerva began "Sit."

Minerva pulled the chair out for Hermione, splaying her hand for Hermione to take a seat. Once comfortable, Minerva handed the glass of wine to Hermione and seated herself in the chair opposite.

Hermione looked around the room in bewilderment, then back at her lover. Now, this was either happening for real, or Hermione had had a harder day at The Ministry than she had recalled. As Minerva took her hand across the small, round table, she settled for the former.

"Have you had a good day?" Minerva asked, piercing Hermione's thoughts.

Looking like a goldfish for a few seconds, opening and closing her mouth trying to find something appropriate to say, Hermione answered,

"Yes."

Minerva giggled and looked down at the table.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

_Hold on,_ Hermione thought, _is that Minerva... Turning red with embarrassment?_

"I'm just... slightly confused." Hermione stated, emphasising the last two words.

Minerva withdrew her hand and leant toward Hermione.

"I am finding some time to be with my love."

Her eyes twinkled in the dark candlelight, that small and smirking smile flashing across her face for only a fraction of a second, a thing Hermione was sure Minerva held for her eyes only. She settled back without another word, a large bowl of tagliatelle carbonara popping into place in front of each of them.

"I know it's your favourite so I got Mixy to make it especially." Minerva stated, smoothing down a napkin on her lap.

Hermione stood from her chair and leant over the two steaming hot dinners, catching Minerva's chin and kissing her passionately on the lips.

"Thank you." She smiled, looking deeply into the elder witches eyes.

* * *

Hermione did so love the way Minerva carefully chopped up her pasta, brought it to her mouth and pondered and enjoyed every mouth full. It was one of those simple things that the younger witch found so delightful about her lover.

"Hermione, eat up it'll get cold."

Minerva nodded toward Hermione's plate that was barely touched, a fork full of carbonara half way to her mouth, the pasta lying limp on the metal instrument desperate to be tasted.

Enjoying each other's company for only a few more moments, a knock came at the door. Hermione looked up at Minerva, who greeted her with an equally confused look. Hermione began to stand but Minerva was there already, opening the door in a flurry of dark, emerald robes.

"Minerva, I'm so sorry. I know you said not to be disturbed but... This is rather urgent..." Professor Flitwick stood in the door way, a worried and hushed tone to his voice.

Hermione saw Minerva mouth something to the man who obviously felt uncomfortable intruding and with a quick nod he left. Glad that, for once in a very long while, Hermione had come first before Minerva's work, the young witch settled back down comfortably and began sipping at her wine. The elder witch sat opposite her lover, twisting her neck slightly then looking up at Hermione with a sympathetic look on her face.

"You have to go, don't you?" Hermione asked bluntly.

"I'm so sorry love. I tried to reason but-"

"Please, don't lie to me Minerva." Hermione placed her wine down, rubbing her tired eye sockets with both hands.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Hermione said standing up, "That I watched you have that conversation at the door Minerva. You didn't put up a fight at all!"

"You're right," the elder witch mumbled, looking into her lap, "I'm sorry."

"For lying, or for leaving?" Hermione demanded; one hand on hip and the other slapping her thigh.

Minerva stood, bringing herself to her full height, and Hermione had a nostalgic feeling of when she was a first year with her new strict and scary Head of House.

"If you do not know the answer to that yourself, then I am not willing to answer it."

Minerva strode out confidently, closing the door behind her quietly without so much as a glance back. Hermione looked upon the table for two and felt a similarity to it; empty and lonely. She blew out the candles, each bringing a tear down her cheek, and went to bed.

* * *

_A/N: Oh my goodness, it has been a while! Sorry!_


	5. Chapter 5

_I own nothing to do with Harry Potter or these characters_

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

2am came, 2am went, and still no sign of Minerva. Hermione sat cross legged in the middle of the large four poster bed, her head leant heavily on her hand, every other second checking the doorway to see if that tall and familiar figure would ever walk through.

Tonight was Minerva's evening off, she should have been back 5 hours by now. But still the young witch sat alone, pondering where her love could be. She tried not to worry, telling herself this was Minerva she was thinking about here, and Hogwarts, one of the safest domains in the country. Voldemort was gone, so there was no fear of anything evil happening, and who would honestly abduct the Headmistress at 2.30am in her own school? Hermione's legs began to jiggle and she rolled her eyes as she realised that worry was getting the better of her.

Hopping off of the bed, Hermione donned her bootie slippers, wrapped herself in one of Minerva's cardigans and let herself out of their quarters and into the quiet corridors of Hogwarts. The only way to set her mind at rest would be to go to Minerva's office, a sure place she would be.

She finally reached the stone gargoyle, after smiling and laughing to herself of all the nostalgia that returned to her walking through the school, thinking of her 'Golden trio' days. She stepped onto the moving staircase, too tired to walk them, until she finally met the large oak door that was the entrance to Minerva's office.

Knocking quietly and opening the door, Hermione could already hear the quiet sounds of portrait predecessors snoozing soundly, Albus Dumbledore perched highest and nearest to the desk that sat dead centre of the room. Sat in the overbearingly large desk chair was Minerva, her lids shut lazily and her breathing heavy. Her head lolled to one side as she slept soundly. Her hands were folded neatly into her lap, clutching a feather quill which fluttered as she exhaled. The younger witch smiled stupidly at the love that filled her heart by merely looking at the sight of her slumbering lover. She moved closer to Minerva, stepping quietly so as not to wake her.

Her greying hair was slightly dishevelled from being leant on her usually neat bun, strands of hair loosely hanging from their attempted escape. Her brows furrowed slightly every now and again, as if she were disagreeing with something, or disapproving. Hermione stood and watched the elder witch dream silently for a while, enjoying the peace it brought to her. She scolded herself for thinking anything was wrong with Minerva, or even herself, and began to banish every memory the past two weeks of arguments had brought.

Hermione glanced to the desk at the pile of paper work sat upon Minerva's desk and felt a pang of sympathy. As she returned her eyes to the sleeping witch, she caught sight of a familiar name; her own. Looking back sharply at the piece of paper led in front of Minerva, it read:

"Hermione, we need to talk."

* * *

_A/N: Coming to a head, maybe?_


	6. Chapter 6

_I own zilch to do with HP!_

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

"I think that both you and I know things haven't exactly been plain flying for the last few weeks, Hermione."

Minerva sat in the chair adjacent to the sofa that Hermione was occupying, staring distantly into the fire. Her eyes were unblinking and her tone was dulcet and void of life.

"Minerva, where is this leading..?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"We need to have a serious talk about things. About what you want and need. Whether I can provide it for you and if I can, will it ever be good enough?" Minerva spoke earnestly, her eyes wide and bright.

Hermione sat dumbfounded; her heart heavy and an empty feeling rotting in the pit of her stomach.

"Of course you can..." She whimpered, shaking her head slightly.

"Really?" Minerva questioned doubtfully, finally turning her attentions to the younger witch.

Hermione began to feel anger slowly bubbling inside of her; after all, she felt the one betrayed and hurt, and now _she_ was being questioned?

"Where have you been the past couple of evenings, Minerva?"

"In my office." The elder witch replied immediately, her back stiffening like a rod.

"Doing what, exactly?" Hermione asked.

"Work."

"By yourself?"

"Of course by myself!" Minerva scoffed, standing up and walking around the back of the chair. "What exactly is it that you are suggesting?"

"Well, you have constantly been late back the past 3 weeks, even on your evenings off. Your affections have waned from me completely and I find myself desperately seeking your attention. I've tried everything I know to catch your eye; there was once a time where I only need walk into a room and you were all over me. I feel, perhaps, your satisfaction is being fulfilled somewhere else."

Hermione's mouth pursed into a small, thin pout; her eyebrows rose in suspicion and her jaw jutted in defence.

"How... How dare you." Minerva whispered, her brows furrowing as she looked Hermione up and down.

"You're not denying it." Hermione contested.

Minerva merely looked at her lover, a look of horror spreading across her face. Her shoulders were back and her hands rested carefully and gently on the head of the seat she had been occupying. She looked down into the fire, shaking her head slightly.

"Then, it's true." Hermione confirmed, looking into her lap in both anger and hurt.

"Is _that_ what you really think!" Minerva spat, making Hermione jump slightly from the sofa.

"You truly think that _I_... Ok, ok! I will tell you, _exactly_ what has been going on. I have been trying to get you to realise desperately that, however much you want me, sometimes I may not be around. I have so much responsibility Hermione, and although you are my number one priority, I cannot reside from my duties just to fulfil your sexual needs. Yes, I would love and do love to make love to you, when you and I are both free to enjoy and be with one another. Just because I stay away, does not mean it is what I want. I have been taking refuge in my office in hope that my absence would make your heart grow fonder, and get you to realise to enjoy and look forward to the time we do have together, not mourn the moments we are not."

Minerva gave a deep breath as her face began to grow red from her short outburst.

"Hermione, I love you. There is no other woman I think, dream of or long for. I want nothing more than for you to be happy and my heart expands at the mere thought of your smile. But, you are not happy. And evidently, you do not trust me. You are not the Hermione I once knew. I think, therefore, we have a problem."

Hermione looked up with pools of tears welling in her eyes.

"What are you suggesting then?"

"I don't know." Minerva replied dully.

* * *

_A/N: where is this going! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_I own no Harry Potter-y type things_

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

"So... I guess this is it then?"

Hermione stood at the platform, her shoulders rising to her ears as she shrugged mournfully at the elder witch standing before her.

"I believe so." Minerva replied, looking down at her feet.

They both stood silently after that, waiting for the train to blow its final whistle signalling its leave for London. Minerva raised her head a few times, apparently about to say something, only to close her mouth and shake her head as she looked away. Hermione stood tearful, her heart breaking and allowing herself to do absolutely nothing about it.

They had agreed it would end; Minerva too hurt at seeing Hermione so unhappy in their relationship and Hermione...

Hermione didn't quite know what she felt.

Steam began to smoke as the train roared its thunderous engine. Hermione was to return and live in her tiny flat in Surrey, most of her things that she brought to move in with Minerva already escorted back by Mixy. A small trunk on wheels led lonely on the pavement, disapproving of the new moving arrangements.

"You'd better go in or you'll never get a seat." Minerva croaked looking at the younger woman briefly, a small and forced smile on her lips.

Minerva had made a point of talking about the good times as she had walked Hermione to the station, but their eyes never engaged once. It was hard to comfort someone you were sending away. The younger witch took a step forward, exhaling deeply to help her stay calm.

It had been two wonderful years the women had spent with each other, both intent on it lasting forever. It had been a sacred unity, a pact, a team, a love. Both were sad to see it slip through their fingers, but what had to be done was done.

"Goodbye then, Minerva."

Hermione swallowed hard on her last note, only the thought of not seeing this woman everyday making her stomach hurt. She kept back tears in a bid to help Minerva think she was strong and capable, even though she felt like she was dying inside.

"Goodbye, Hermione." Minerva whispered.

She looked into the girls eyes and smiled as much as she could; knowing her strength would help her love go. She was hoping once the train was out of site, her heart would seize and she wouldn't have to live with the emptiness of her chambers, her bed, her heart.

Hermione dragged her trunk and stepped off of the platform, Minerva helping her onto the train.

"Well, goodbye then..." Hermione said.

"Goodbye."

Minerva waved slightly to distract Hermione from the wavering in her voice. Tears threatened at the back of her eyes and cries erupted in her throat, but she sustained her usual upright self.

Hermione shut the door of the carriage, closing her eyes as she turned away and began to search for an empty compartment. A tear rolled down her cheek, her feet aching already from the distance between her and her love. She finally found a seat at the back of the train, a place usually avoided.

Minerva searched frantically on the platform, finally recognising the shiny brown hair of Hermione. She stood from afar, not knowing what to do. Hermione wiped a tear away from her cheek while Minerva strode toward her, knocking gently on the window. The elder witch waved, bringing the same hand into a fist to her mouth.

The train began to move slowly, the pulling away like the strings on Hermione's heart. She watched Minerva move back slightly so as not to be sucked into the motion, their eyes for the first time that day truly meeting.

Minerva slowly formed into a tiny dot, but Hermione's eyes didn't move once.

Hermione became a mere memory in the distance, but Minerva's eyes stayed locked on her loves.

_**The End: To be continued...**_

* * *

___A/N: Does what it says on the tin guys, will be a sequel sometime :)_**  
**


End file.
